


Midnight Ryder

by TheLiveshipParagon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, British Men of Letters, Car Sex, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Demon Dean Winchester, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hunters & Hunting, Mark of Cain, No Amara/Dean Winchester, Post-Mark of Cain, Protective Dean Winchester, Rage, Reader-Insert, Sex, Sex in the Impala, Shyness, The Darkness - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLiveshipParagon/pseuds/TheLiveshipParagon
Summary: Requested by AssassinofMasyaf (Tumblr)Reader is an ex British Men of Letters who joins with the Winchesters. Her and Dean dance around their feelings for each other until bearing the Mark drags the worst out of them both.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a one-shot but there was so much material it turned into a multi chapter so join me for the ride!  
> (Proofreading errors likely)  
> \- TLP xx

If you really thought back to it, you could still hear your mother screaming as the men you’d come to know as guardians dragged her out into the main hall of the Cambridge headquarters.

Your father had been put in chains, displayed like an animal for all the Men of Letters to see whilst Lord Seagrave prowled like a pompous pigeon.

“You see before you a traitor,” he starts, as your mother pleads for you to be taken out of the chamber.

“I am no traitor!” your father yells. “These allegations are baseless!”

“Did you or did you not allow a werewolf to go free?”

“He was doing no harm! He’d never killed any one!”

A murmur rippled through the Men of Letters selectmen, a murmur that signalled intense disapproval.

“Ah so you admit you allowed a werewolf to escape? Does that not contravene our code?” Lord Seagrave huffs proudly.

“Fuck your code,” your father spits and you’re shocked to hear him swear. He was usually so reserved. “It’s wrong. The whole bloody thing is wrong. Not all monsters are evil.”

“No…quite…” Lord Seagrave muses. “So that explains then why you married a witch?”

There’s a collective gasp and your stomach tightened. How had any one found out about that?! You had never told a soul, your father had never told a soul.

“I don’t practise, I swear!” your mother begs. “I’ve never touched dark magic!”

“But you  _have_ used spells? You have used them for your own gain?”

“Only to have my daughter!” she implores them. “Please! Spare my husband! Take me in his place!”

“Evelyn, no!” your father bellows, straining against the shackles.

“Oh I rather think that is a good idea,” Lord Seagrave smiles horribly. “Perhaps this will put you back in line.”

He clicks his fingers and younger initiates drag your mother to the centre of the room in front of your father, propping her up. You hear the click of a revolver and everything seemed to go hazy.

You were dimly aware of screaming and you try to look away but someone holds your head still.

“Don’t look away now, see what happens when Daddy doesn’t follow the rules,” they say in your ear.

“Don’t make her look!” your father pleads. “She’s just a child!”

“You should have thought about that, Richard,” Lord Seagrave tuts. “You really should.”

You got a front row seat to your mother’s brains being blown out as your father roared in anguish…

**

“Holy crap,” Dean murmurs, his beer long forgotten in his hand. “How old were you?!”

“I was twelve,” you reply. “Sadly that’s not the end of the story.”

“There’s more?!” Dean’s mouth hangs open.

“Yeah, my Dad tried to escape with me out of the country but they found us.”

“Did they….”

“They hanged him in the courtyard.”

“Brits, man. Savage,” Dean shakes his head. “I didn’t know hanging was still a thing.”

“It wasn’t. It was outlawed in the early sixties. They just made an exception for him, made him an example.”

“Princess, I can honestly say your life is about as messed up as mine and Sam’s,” Dean takes a long drag from his bottle.

“To the reasons why we drink,” you hold your whisky glass out to toast him.

He clinks his bottle against your tumbler, “To the many years of therapy I’m missing out on.”

You both drain the last of your drinks, the edge of drunkness preying on your mind.

“Thanks,” you say finally.

“For what?” he says confused.

“For listening.”

“Hey, no, thank  _you_  for trusting me with that. Can’t be easy,” Dean grimaces. “Now I know why you have nightmares.”

“Now you know why my alcohol tolerance is so high,” you quip.

“Come on, sweetheart. Sammy will kill us if we roll back wasted again,” Dean gets off the bar stool, gallantly holding your coat out for you.

As he puts it on, that old flash of longing starts again but you know it’s only fuelled by booze.

_Pull yourself together, he doesn’t see you that way and stop letting alcohol dictate your feelings._

“Walk a girl to her car?” you ask sweetly.

“You’re waaaay over the limit,” he snorts. “ _I’ll_  drive.”

“There’s no way in hell you’re driving the Beast,” you narrow your eyes.

“Aww come on!” Dean protests. “I let you drive Baby!”

“She’s a Mustang Fastback, Dean,” you stress. “A  _Mustang_ …Chevy’s aren’t worth jack compared to that.”

“Please?” Dean flashes you a model worthy pout and his best puppy dog eyes. “Just once? Just to tick it off the bucket list?”

“Ah fineeeee,” you sigh, throwing him the keys. “Have at it then. If you break her you pay for her.”

“Oh I’ll be real careful, sweetcheeks,” Dean claps his hands together in glee. “Get in.”

True to his word, he treats Beast like glass but you can tell he’s having the time of his life. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

“You’ve got a pretty smile.”

“Say what?” Dean blinks.

Oh no, you said that out loud.

“You are so drunk right now,” Dean laughs. “It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute,” you poke your tongue out. “Don’t make me turn your bed clothes into snakes again.”

Dean shivers, “Yeah thanks for that. Now I know why Indy hates them.”

It felt wonderfully freeing that you could talk this way with the brothers. For all of your life you’d had to hide the magic you’d inherited from your mother for fear of reprisal but with them, they actively encouraged it, finding it helped them on cases.

“You’re as bad as Gabriel sometimes,” Dean throws you a raised eyebrow.

“I’m hotter than Gabriel though.”

Oh goddamn, why were these things just tumbling out of your mouth right now?! Surely you’d not drunk more than normal?!

“I ain’t arguing that,” Dean smirks. “Home sweet home.”

You pull up at the bunker and get out. You do your traditional stroke of the blue and white striped bonnet, a lucky gesture, before going in.

“Hey Sam?” Dean calls.

There’s no answer though. Sam was out on a date currently so obviously it must be going well.

“I think someone’s getting laid tonight,” Dean snorts.

“Needs it. Yelled at me for touching an almanac the other day because I was ‘wrecking his chronological order’.”

“Yeah that’s Sammy alright,” Dean sighs. “Whaddya say, princess? Is the bar closed or are we drinking more?”

“Always drinking more,” you make an 'obviously’ face. “We do this to cope with our shitty problems right?”

“Damn straight,” Dean chuckles. “Though we’re getting you off the whisky, that’s fightin’ drink. Switch to rum.”

“So I can be a pirate instead?” you joke.

“Hell yeah,” Dean winks before going into the liqueur cabinet and retrieving a large bottle of caramel coloured liquid. “Here we go.”

About five drinks in you notice his demeanour starts changing. Bearing the Mark would affect him at random times and you could see the aggressive mood coming.

“Time to head to bed,” you say firmly, wanting to be out of the blast zone as quick as possible.

You make to get up but he grabs hold of your wrist and before you know it, you’re pushed onto the table, the alcohol bottles scattering everywhere.

“Dean, what are you doing?!” you cry out, squirming against his grip.

There’s nothing but a primal growl as he mounts you, pinning you down where his mouth rakes over your throat.

“DEAN!”

“Oh can it, sweetcheeks. You’ve been making eyes at me all night. I’m just giving you what you want.”

You end up punching him in the jaw which startles him and he seems to come back to his senses.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Oh god,” he babbles, getting off you immediately before punching the fridge in anger. “I HATE THIS! I HATE THIS GODDAMN MARK! LOOK AT WHAT I DID TO YOU!”

“Dean, please,” you get up, trying to comfort him but he shucks you away. “Won’t you just consider-”

“I’m  _not_ giving this to you,” he snarls. “This is a curse. There’s no way I’m letting you get destroyed like this. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Death said-”

“I don’t care!” he yells loudly. “Sorry…I just…I don’t wanna be this way.”

You bundle him into a hug and the two of you awkwardly reach into it. You try not to think about the words he’d used when he was overtaken, that he seemed to know you  _were_  checking him out. Hopefully it was just a provocative statement.

Dean sighs heavily before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Ryder, I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t ever hurt you, right?”

“I know, I know. So please let me take the Mark before you do.”

He leans back from you, giving you the most pained expression, eyes full of regret and sadness. You see his bottom lip quiver slightly.

“Alright. I don’t like it at all but alright,” he concedes. “Maybe you’ll be better at managing the rages. Chicks are always better at everything anyway.”

“Damn right we are,” you smile. “We can always swap back, right? Share it between ourselves? Keep the outbursts to a minimum?”

“That’s actually not a bad plan,” Dean nods. “We’ll try that. See how it goes. Sammy ain’t gonna like it one bit but when has he ever liked anything we’ve ever done?”

“That’s true,” you laugh. “And if I go all 'all work and no play’, will you help me?”

“Anything for you, princess,” he strokes your hair back. “You know that. I’ll always protect you. You know, funny how life is sometimes. Never thought five years ago I’d be this protective of a Brit.”

“Half Brit”, you correct him. “And I know what you mean. We’ll get through this. I got you through your demon turn.”

“Promise?” Dean murmurs, uncharacteristically afraid as he grips you tighter. “Promise me it’ll be okay.”

“Promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death grows tired of yours and Dean’s game and decides to issue an ultimatum over The Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys, been moving house.  
> Here's another chapter.  
> Warnings; Smut, angst.  
> Happy reading!  
> -TLP xx

Death was less than impressed at your constant switching of the Mark.

You and Dean kept transferring it between yourselves when the rage got too much and it was only both of your continued support that got you through it.

“This is the last time I’m doing this,” Death announces, his eyebrows raised across his stretched and sallow forehead. “The natural order has been flouted for far too long.”

“Woah woah woah!” Dean cries. “Then stop!”

He had born the mark for the last three weeks before he’d gotten into a barfight and nearly killed everyone. Now it was your turn.

“I cannot stop it, Dean,” Death sighs like he’s explaining things to a child. “She will carry the Mark from here on out.”

“No!” Dean shouts but it’s too late.

You feel the prickly sensation as the symbol raised in your skin and you instantly wanted to scratch at it, scratch so hard you’d tear chunks of yourself out. You hated the instant on edge feeling but you gritted your teeth and looked to Dean who seemed mortified.

“Oh that’s it,” Dean shakes his head. “We’re finding a goddamn cure, right now.”

Death lets out a tremendous huff, “When will you listen to me? There  _is_  no cure. Stop this fanciful rubbish at once. Miss Ryder has responded much better to the Mark than you so I deign it better that she bears it until her death.”

“Which is in like what….four fricking weeks?” Dean starts to get angrier. “I’m just supposed to watch her become something evil?”

“Precisely,” Death glares at him. “Now my time is precious. Scoot.”

You got up, nodding to be courteous at least and half pushed Dean out of the door to the Impala. He gets into the driver’s side and just rests his head on the wheel whilst you climb in the passenger side.

“Goddamn it!” he yells, thumping his fist on the horn where it blares momentarily.

“Hey, maybe I should drive. You seem angrier than me right now,” you joke, trying to deflate the mood.

“Fine,” Dean says pissily before exiting the driver’s side with a slam and waiting for you to get out.

When you set off driving, Dean is incredibly tense. It’s making you even more on edge as you drive down the back roads away from Death’s favourite diner.

“Gonna talk to me, cowboy?” you ask.

“It’s not fair,” Dean says quickly. “None of this is fair.”

“And it was fair when  _you_ had it for a long while?”

“That’s different. I’m expendable,” Dean grumbles.

You slam the brakes on hard, your temper flaring up very easily thanks to the Mark’s influence.

“You listen to me, Dean Winchester. You  _ever_ say to me you’re expendable again and I will burn your vinyl records to glue. I’m sick of your pity party martyr complex! You are important. You’re important to  _me_  so shut the hell up and just help me find a cure.”

Dean opens his mouth a few times like a gawping fish before finally closing it and staring straight ahead. He’s silent for a while until he pipes up again.

“I’m important to you?” he says shyly.

“Of course you are,” you shake your head.

“Well you’re important to me too,” Dean says grimly. “So I don’t care what I gotta do. I’m saving you by any means.”

“Just as long as it’s not your life because I won’t let you,” you give him a pointed stare before driving again. “I’m not part of your Winchester sacrifice game.”

Dean looks guilty for a second and you know that was his plan. He was so easy to read sometimes.

“Alright, we’ll do this the Sam way,” Dean concedes.

There’s the rude blare of a horn as a truck driver nearly side swipes you taking a bend too tightly and you have to wrench the wheel, making the Impala skid in an arc, coming to a halt near a patch of trees.

“Jesus Christ! Goddamn asshole!” Dean yells at the truck driver who’s already leaving.

You on the other hand are shaking, not with adrenalin, not with fear but with pure primal anger. You’re about ten seconds away from ripping the wheel from the steering column when Dean catches your expression.

“No no no, princess. Hey! Come back to me, okay?”

“Fucking arsehole,” you growl.

“You dare turn this car around and chase after him and we are not friends any more,” Dean warns you. “Don’t put Baby in danger.”

You unclip the seat belt, getting out and slamming the door before you start punching a nearby tree, the bark flying off in huge pieces. You punch until your knuckles bleed, til the tree starts to bend and it snaps, pitching over into the tiny woods.

“Stop! Ryder, stop!” Dean panics, grabbing your fists before you can start on the next tree. “Please!”

“I can’t….I can’t control it,” you grimace.

“You wouldn’t hit me,” Dean steps in front of you. “I  _know_  you. You wouldn’t do it so just focus on me, alright?”

You take deep steadying breaths whilst Dean soothes your bruised and scuffed up hands. Dean starts humming  _[Riders on the Storm](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Div8GW1GaoIc&t=ODY2ODRlOGUxMjZhYWYzMWYxNjUyYTllMjEwZDkzOGQzMDI3YmNhMSxNWHo2UVRaag%3D%3D&b=t%3AqOvnaaDd_SfVYQ8UVUnylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Ftheliveshipparagon.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178261305660%2Fmidnight-ryder-chapter-2-supernatural-fic&m=1)_  which calms you down a little. He always used to tease you with that song when you first met.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Dean pulls you into a hug, noticing your less tense demeanour.

“Either save me or put me down, Dean,” you whisper.

His grip on you tightens, “You’re not a damn dog!”

“You know what I mean. If I go full dark side….demon….”

“It ain’t gonna happen,” Dean says with idiot determination. “Not on my watch.”

“Promise me.”

Dean sighs heavily, “I promise. Happy?”

You suddenly curl up in agony, the Mark flaring on your arm and the urge to render, to tear, to kill comes back in full force.

“RYDER!” Dean yells in alarm, pinning you to the bonnet of the Impala as you writhe like a furious cat, scratching at any part of him you could.

He managed to get your wrists in one hand and your thighs secured with his knees. You couldn’t squirm, all you could do was rage.

“Come on, 28 Days Later, come back,” Dean urges.

“I just…I….it feels so intense, like it’s trying harder to influence me,” you grit out.

“Fight it! I know you can!”

The rage turns to something else and all you working off is your very base emotions and you break out of his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him to you. Dean falls off balance, his elbows dropping either side of your head as you lean up and take advantage, kissing him harshly.

He goes rigid for a moment, unsure what to do before he leans back up.

“What the hell are you doing?” he blinks.

“I just  _need_  to,” you pant, trying to claw him back but he dodges.

“Nuh uh, princess, not like this,” he frowns. “It’s not right. You don’t feel this way.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel, Dean,” you hiss. “The Mark just makes us less filtered right?  You did the same thing.”

“Look, I admit we have some sexual tension thing going on but it’s a line we shouldn’t cross, Ryder. We’re friends and this is just a bad way to try and -”

You yank him by his shirt, taking the back of his head and continuing your vicious assault on his mouth.

“STOP!” Dean pushes away but you just manage to flip him under you.

You can feel the effect you’re having on him and his resistance is waning. The faux lust the Mark is creating is overwhelming both you and him.

“Ah heck, why not,” he gives in, kissing you with equal passion. “But not on my damn bonnet.”

He pushes you back, taking your hand and leading you to the backseat of the Impala where you eagerly scramble onto it.

He shuts the door on you, going back to the driver’s seat and you think you’ve been tricked for a moment.

“Easy princess, just parking her away from the road,” Dean notices your look. “Cool your jets for one second. I’m not getting arrested for indecency again.”

“Again?”

“Long story.”

He drives to a more secluded spot before exiting and practically diving on you and years of sexual tension finally gives way.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs in between kisses.

“But you want to?”

“God yes and if I might have to kill you someday then all the more reason to.”

He shucks out of his plaid shirt and t-shirt, baring his scarred and muscled body for you to see.

“Feast your eyes on the goods, sweetheart,” he smirks at you.

“Oh yeah? How about this?”

You strip your top off, unclasp your bra and his jaw just drops.

“Damn okay, you win,” he murmurs, drinking in your body before mouthing kisses along your chest.

“No, no teasing, I need to get this energy out. Please,” you half beg. “It’s hard containing it.”

“Sweetheart that’s not the only thing that’s hard,” he chuckles before getting out of his jeans and pulling yours off too until the only thing separating you both was your underwear.

“ _Now_ Dean, I need you now,” you tug his boxers down.

“Well ain’t you a firecracker,” he grins, pulling your underwear off.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t want this to,” you say in a tone you only really reserve for your best seduction attempts.

“Ryder, I think it was damn obvious what I wanted,” Dean says, nestling himself between your legs. “Last chance to just be friends.”

“If I’m going to die, I’ll die as something more than friends,” you say firmly. “No regrets, no 'what ifs’.”

He takes that as a sign and pushes himself into you, the heat from his body almost searing your skin.

“God I hope this becomes my Heaven moment,” Dean murmurs as he gives you a chance to get used to him, stroking your hair back.

“Dean,” you prompt and he hikes your thighs around him, rolling his hips forward.

The pace started languid but the Mark just burned on your arm, making you be more and more aggressive, your nails digging into his back, your hips snapping to meet his. Before long you became insatiable and Dean was ramping his own level up to match.

He snaked his hand down in between you and for once you were glad of his extensive past history of girls because he was  _very_  well practised at pleasing women.

The aggression was ramping and ramping and you were both leaving your marks all over each other. If you came across Sam he would definitely know what you did.

You felt the knot of tension in your core just snap in a way that was so much more intense than usual. You were both so lost in the moment that Dean didn’t stop as he reached his own release and you felt the warmth run down your thighs as he finally set them back down.

“God I’m sorry. I should’ve been more aware,” he says embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” you smile weakly. “Nothing a tablet won’t fix.”

“Did that help?”

“Yeah, yeah it did. I hope I haven’t made things weird.”

“Not at all, princess,” he kisses the top of your head.

Suddenly the weight of what was looming ahead came crashing down on you and all you could do was lose all the strength from your limbs and start shaking. You were going to have the Mark until it killed you. You knew a hunter’s life was short but this was putting a terminal date on yourself.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong,” Dean says softly. “I’m sorry, was this too much? God I knew I should’ve controlled myself better.”

“No,” you manage to get out. “I’m just…I’m scared, Dean.”

His face becomes one of understanding and sympathy, “I know, sweetheart. Been there. For the record I’m scared for you too. I….I don’t wanna lose you.”

“I’m sorry if this breaks even more boundaries but…can we just stay here for a little while?” you ask.

“Sure thing, hey, let’s get dressed and sit on the bonnet,” Dean suggests.

When you’re both lying on the Impala, Dean’s hand holding yours whilst you look to the sky, the only comfort you can take at your impending death sentence is at least you know Dean feels a fraction of what you feel for him.

How unfortunate it took you being bound to a beginning of creation curse for this all to come out.

“Ryder?”

“Yeah?” you answer.

“I’m gonna save you. I’m gonna save you without martyring myself because I wanna know more than anything where this road is gonna go. Hope you’re okay with that.”

You nod, “Let’s see where the road goes then.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mark becomes too much and you make a decision that Dean doesn’t like at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally for: @assassinofmasyaf on Tumblr
> 
> Warnings: Angst…so much angst
> 
> Happy reading!   
> -TLP xx
> 
> ( Proof reading errors possible [I really should be in bed when I’m at work at 6am but when you get on a roll….you can’t ignore it])

After nearly killing Dean when he ate the last slice of pie, you knew you were spiralling out of control.

“Woah woah!” Sam pulls you off whilst Dean wipes his face free of blood. “Calm down!”

You just ended up bursting into tears which surprised both of the brothers. Instantly Dean was getting up from the kitchen counter and yanking you into a big hug.

“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart. It was just a blip,” he shushes you.

“It’s not a fucking blip!” you cry. “I can’t control this any more. I’m freaking out over little things.”

“You know, usually I’d make a sexist joke here but I think you might actually murder me,” Dean chuckles. “It’s okay, Crowley and Rowena are on the cure right now. It’ll happen.”

“I need to go for a drive before I accidentally kill one of you,” you shake your head, breaking free.

“You’re not going alone!” Sam protests. “Dean, go with her!”

As you’re rushing out of the bunker, you hear them arguing slightly and Sam mention, “Dean, you think I’m blind? Even Castiel could see you love her. Go after her before she does something stupid.”

Your heart slightly stops as you end up sprinting to the Beast and diving into the driver’s seat, trying to regain your centre of peace.

Dean loved you? He  _loved_ you? You’d closed off your feelings completely, not thinking romance was even an option but now with the confusing car sex and Dean’s overbearingness in making sure you controlled the rages, your emotions were all over the place.

Could you…..could you allow yourself to….

The thought train was cut short by Dean getting into your car and your little daydream was over.

There was no way you could start anything with Dean with this death sentence hanging over your head. That wasn’t fair.

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere without me,” Dean says firmly, folding his arms.

“Fine,” you huff, slamming the accelerator as hard as you could, really opening up the engine.

“Woah!” Dean grabs onto the seat for dear life. “What the hell?!”  
“I need to blow off steam and you’re the idiot who decided to join me,” you growl.

“Well geez, at least put tunes on,” he snorts, managing to lean forward and start your tape deck.

_[True Faith](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DzzeNAUOp17c&t=OWI1NTVmYTRjNWRhYjJlYTVlMTgxNzFmM2QyYzdjMDk2ZDk2MWU2YixSc3dWOGRaZA%3D%3D&b=t%3AqOvnaaDd_SfVYQ8UVUnylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Ftheliveshipparagon.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178493131045%2Fmidnight-ryder-chapter-3-supernatural-fic&m=1)_  by New Order starts blasting out and Dean just gives you such a reproachful eyebrow.

“Man we’re gonna have to talk about your music, princess. Eighties new wave is just…ugh.”

“What’s the rule, Dean?” you hold up a finger.

Dean just sighs, “Driver picks the music.”

“And?”

“Shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

“Good, now turn it up. If this is my final tune, I want to hear it so loud it vibrates the damn windows.”

Dean complies and you end up singing, trying to distract yourself from the terrifying plan you had.

Dean starts laughing and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Something funny, cowboy?”

“No, it’s just….I never hear you sing. You’re always too British, you know. Stuck up about it. You got good pipes.”

“Thanks,” you blush.

“Just please tell me there’s no Genesis next,” he wrinkles his nose.

You just laugh as the next track pops on,  _[Hip to Be Square](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DS-Pph3p6zww&t=Yzc1OWE4NmE2NTBhMDBlMjU5NmZlYjIzNDE5NmFkNzQwMmNhYWJiNCxSc3dWOGRaZA%3D%3D&b=t%3AqOvnaaDd_SfVYQ8UVUnylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Ftheliveshipparagon.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178493131045%2Fmidnight-ryder-chapter-3-supernatural-fic&m=1)_.

“Why do I like you again?” Dean smirks.

“Well you apparently love me according to Sam,” you blurt out, the Mark flaring up again and eroding your filter. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Dean visibly pales before coughing, “Ah….you heard.”

“I didn’t hear your answer. It’s fine, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you babble, pressing on the gas more, keen to just get to your destination, the final destination you would ever go to.

“No, you need to know,” Dean says levelly before taking a deep breath. “You need to know because you got that look in your eye. I’ve seen it. I’ve  _done_  it. You’re gonna do something monumentally stupid and that probably means it’s fatal.”

You say nothing but grit your jaw. Sometimes you wished you weren’t so similar to him.

“Yeah, totally,” Dean nods in his own affirmation. “You and me, we’re two of a kind, sweetheart. Martyr central.”

“I guess I am a hypocrite,” you let up on the accelerator. “I’m that readable?”

“You would never burn so much rubber on the Beast unless you weren’t planning to maintain her any more,” Dean says knowingly. “I’m not like Einstein smart but I’m smarter than your average bear.”

“Is this the part where you’re going to tell me you’ll never forgive me for doing it and I’m a horrible person?” you prepare yourself for the blow.

“Not at all, Ryder,” Dean shakes his head before turning to you. “Pull over. I got some sentimental crap to say.”

“Oh now I gotta hear this,” you laugh slightly before stopping in a lay-by.

You put the handbrake on and are about to take your hand off it when Dean covers it with his own, squeezing slightly.

“You’re gonna do something stupid that’s gonna get you killed. So I’m gonna say this now before we end up fighting and I stop you. The answer I gave Sam…..it’s true. I  _am_  in love with you and it’s totally inappropriate and it’s terrifying but I can’t change how I feel. So there we go. I am way too vulnerable right now. This is weird. I should really stop talking right now and-”

You shush his embarrassing waffling by leaning forward and kissing him. He goes stiff for a second before returning it, much sweeter than the one he gave you previously.

“I wish I could allow myself to feel the same,” you say honestly. “But I’ll be gone by tonight and I’m sorry it got this far for you. I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“So….so you don’t…you don’t….” he stammers, trying to get the words out. “You don’t feel the same?”

“I didn’t say that,” you smile wryly. “I just can’t let myself feel it because if I did, I wouldn’t be doing this and it  _needs_  to happen. I can’t hurt anyone any more, least of all you. It’ll be better for everyone if I just vanish.”

“Well it’s not gonna be better for me,” Dean frowns heavily. “You’re just gonna leave me behind like that? You’re gonna let Sam pick up the pieces?”

“Dean, you’ll find a new girl in a matter of weeks,” you sigh. “I’m just flavour of the month, you’ll forget about me.”

“Don’t you dare say that to me again,” he snaps at you. “You don’t get to tell me how I’m feelin’ sweetheart. I would be devastated, you hear me? Devastated.”

You turn forward, not knowing what to say and just start driving again.

“Ryder, talk to me,” he pleads. “Don’t do this. Please.”

“I have to,” you all but whisper.

When you arrive at Death’s favourite diner, Dean all but goes through the stages of grief in a short span of seconds. It’s a whirlwind of yelling, pleading, crying and finally letting you get out of the car.

You come around and press the keys into his hand and he all but breaks down.

“But your car….” he trails off.

“Yours now,” you stroke his cheek, trying not to look directly at his face in case you break down too. “Look after her.”

“Ryder wait,” he attempts to pull you back but you slip through, entering the diner and greeting Death.

“Hello, my dear,” Death nods.

“It’s time,” you say bravely. “I can’t do this any more. Seal me away.”

“At last, some common sense,” Death smiles and it’s a strangely warming sight. “Thought I don’t think Dean will quite allow that somehow.”

“Not his decision,” you shake your head. “Let’s do this.”

Dean bursts in the diner, getting between you and Death.

“No way, this ain’t happenin’,” Dean growls.

“For God’s sake, Dean! It  _needs_ to happen,” you push past him.

“I’m not losing you. I’m not losing anyone any more,” Dean says firmly.

“Then I’ll just have to kill you,” Death sighs, standing up. “Miss Ryder has made an excellent decision and I can’t have you doing your usual ‘Winchester’ thing.”

“Wait, what?” you blink. “No, you don’t have to kill him, just put him outside!”

“My dear, he’s a man in love,” Death explains, conjuring a scythe. “He won’t stop at anything. I’ve seen that look before.”

“Damn straight,” Dean nods. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“And so I need to take care of the issue,” Death runs a thumb along the blade before whirling it to an attack position.

In your panic, you let the magic just flow from you, not really giving it a direction or a purpose and you realised you had stolen Death’s scythe as it appeared in your hands.

“Now now, Miss Ryder,” Death seems annoyed. “Give that back.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to let you kill Dean.”

“Really now, this is getting intolerable,” Death’s face turns into a sneer and the effect is frightening.

He lunges for you and you freak out, reverting to hunter mode and before you know it, the scythe is buried in his torso.

“You just stabbed Death?!” Dean gapes.

There’s a whirl of dust as Death’s form crumbles into ash and you’re just left holding his scythe.

“You killed Death for me,” Dean mumbles in complete shock.

“I…I couldn’t let him…I….oh god what have I done?!” you drop the weapon like it had scalded you and tears start falling down your cheeks. “I just….I….”

“I got you, princess. I got you,” Dean runs to hug you. “We’ll get through it, I promise.”

“I couldn’t….Dean, I….” you babble until he leans down, kissing you with such passion you lose yourself in it, your fingers curling in his short hair.

“You don’t have to say it, sweetheart,” he assures you. “Killing Death kinda said it all.”

“I guess I do now my plan is in the wind,” you laugh bitterly. “I wanted to spare you this, Dean, spare you the heartache because I can’t hold on much longer. This Mark is killing me and I’m not strong enough and I didn’t want…I didn’t mean to fall in love with you along the way because now I have to watch myself ruin it and push you away and maybe even kill you.”

“Heh, you admitted it,” Dean snorts playfully. “You love me. You dork.”

“Really, Dean?” you pull away from him.

“Stopped the pity party right?” he grins stupidly at you. “I don’t care about your martyr mission sweetheart. All I care about is that you’re here with me, right now and I’m not gonna let you go.”

“Even if I go full darkside?” you whisper.

“Then I will bring you back like you did with me,” he says seriously. “I told you Ryder. I wanna see where this road goes because hell if it hasn’t been awesome so far. Oh and…if it sweetens the deal any, Sam approves.”

“Oh well, that’s perfectly fine then,” you shrug.

You find yourself tracing your thumb along his jawline and you can see in his eyes the sheer joy that you’re accepting the truth of what’s between you.

The joy is short lived when you feel an intense burning sensation in your arm and the Mark flares before a beam of light shoots from the ceiling connecting to it. Dean grips you tightly, fearful you’re dying but all that happens is the Mark disappears from your skin into the sky.

“What happened?!” you blink.

“Wow, I guess Crowley and Rowena came through,” Dean remarks before checking you over. “So…we’re home free? This can happen now?”

“I….I mean I’m expecting something bad to happen but there’s no raining frogs,” you look out of the window.

“I can’t believe something actually went right,” Dean laughs, kissing the top of your head. “First time in like…..ever.”

The ground suddenly shook and you almost pitch over. You and Dean just looked at each other before racing outside to see an undulating cloud of black smoke bearing down the street.

“Get in the car!” Dean yells, pushing you in before leaping over the bonnet and diving into the driver’s seat.

“Go!” you urge and he starts reversing backwards at full speed but it’s not enough.

The cloud is gaining and with one last desperate look, you see it engulf the Beast and you’re plunged into darkness, darkness and silence and then…..light?

“Hello, my saviour. I’ve been waiting such a long time to be free.”


End file.
